by Anya Allyn
A child’s scream pierced the night.
“Frances!” Molly cried in alarm. “What are you doing here?”
Frances’s body was racked with sobs, her face swollen with tears. “You can’t leave me again,” she screamed at Molly in a voice raspy with fear and cold. “You can’t leave me!”
A shadow crept from the water, stealing toward Frances. She was the easiest target.
Yelling, I hurled my shadow from me—sending the other shadow back into the bay.
The shadows would kill all of us if we had our backs to them, fleeing back to the museum. We had to stop and fight—and it would take all of us.
Running to Frances, I handed her the box. “Listen to me! I want you to take this back to the museum. Run and don’t stop until you see Nabaasa. If you want to help Missy, then do this—else we’ll all get hurt.”
“Yes, please Frances,” breathed Molly.
Frances nodded somberly. She took off like a rabbit across the snow.
Behind me, the battle had already begun.
~.~
The puzzle box sat on a table made of a wooden sign and two short filing cabinets, Nabaasa polishing the intricate decorations around it with a cloth.
We’d banished the shadows again, but they were attacking with greater fury. We hadn’t lost anyone this time, but I didn’t know if any of us could survive another attack. We’d quickly dried off and changed into dry clothing, and re-joined the others.
I crept over to the box, seeing it clearly for the first time. The metal was a deep, burnished brown, each of the six sides of the box featuring mermaids and mermen swimming atop wavy currents of water. There was no latch, no keyhole, not even a discernible seam. Jessamine was right—it was a puzzle box without any way in.
“So this is it,” said Dr. Sharma with wonder in her voice. “This contains a book that is thousands of years old....”
“I hope so.” I couldn’t tear my gaze away. I’d searched for this book ever since finding out about its existence. And now, it was here before us.
“But how do we open the thing?” questioned Derrick. “We’d need a grinder to get through that. We have the tools—just no electricity anymore to work them.”
“You must destroy it! Destroy it!” Sister Bettina flung her hands around in agitation.
Another of the guards nodded. “Look, if the stuff inside the book is that damned dangerous, then we should take it out on the ice, put dynamite around it and explode the thing to smithereens.”
“No.” Sophronia snapped her head around, staring at him with cool brown eyes. “My family and ancestors guarded the first of the books for centuries. They knew what it was, yet they did not destroy it. We should not destroy knowledge, no matter how dangerous that knowledge may be.”
Sister Bettina stiffened. “You would have the books fall into the wrong hands, and have all of humanity, on every world, subject to the dark overlords that take power? My Order has faithfully kept the castle from getting their hands on such power. But now that protection is gone. We cannot keep the book safe—and we must rid the world of it!”
Anger boiled inside me. “You—you are the ones who allowed the castle in,” I railed at Sister Bettina. “You let them take Ethan. You’re the reason the museum is ripped to pieces.”
The sister’s face pinched. “To err is human. We are not God.”
Sophronia slammed a hand on the table. “I cannot let you convince the others to destroy this book. The books exist on other worlds—worlds that we and the castle cannot reach. They cannot be destroyed. And even if we could, should we destroy the knowledge that tells us how to reach every corner of every universe?”
“That is God’s knowledge, not ours.”
“How do we know what God wishes us to know?” persisted Sophronia. “And do we even know what we are, or who we are? You and me and everyone standing here is made of the same material as the stars. We do not understand ourselves, let alone the universes.”
Sister Bettina primly folded one hand over the other. “You’ve been brainwashed—raised in a temple from the moment of your birth—to do the devil’s work, to keep safe his instructions to ruin everything in creation.”
Sophronia inhaled deeply. “Then you tell me, Sister Bettina, you tell me where it is written that we should not explore more than just this earth. And please, do not quote those Bible phrases about wandering stars. I have been taught the religious texts of books from all religions, and you are using that quote out of context.”
“I used my own interpretation, guided by my relationship with the Lord,” she said.
Sophronia marched toward her, from around the table. “Before, when the Order was the only thing keeping the castle at bay, we were forced to accept your ruling. But what makes you and your Order any different from the dark overlords you spoke of, if you were forcing your ideals onto all of us? We were forced to keep the families and children here, because you wouldn’t allow them to go to another earth. You allowed children to die, rather than keep them safe. I was taught to know the right time to read the book, and that time is now.”
Sister Bettina clutched at the high neck of her coat. “We did what we thought best, and we will be judged in the next life.”
“As I will be judged,” said Sophronia, holding Sister Bettina’s gaze.
Dr. Blakeney scratched his temple, seeming to be uncomfortable with the altercation between Sister Bettina and Sophronia. He picked up the box, weighing it between his hands. “It’s heavy. Solid copper on the outside I’d say, and maybe steel on the inside.”
Molly bent her face down to the box, running a finger over a mermaid’s tail. I was reminded of the otherworld Molly, touching the roots of the tree on the wall carving in Tobias Fiveash’s house. When Molly had fitted Jessamine’s locket into the matching indentation, the roots and branches had moved across each other to reveal the hidden drawer.
Gently, I took the box from Dr. Blakeney. Turning it over, and over again, I followed the long, unbroken line of the sea currents around the box. The currents were all made of copper, from one long, flattened and hollow tube, beginning with a small disc-shaped opening at the top of one side. I frowned deeply. “What if... what if something else is meant to open the box? Like, does something go in here?” I pointed to the opening.
Lacey gasped. “Remember the riddle? A puzzle for a penny. Could it be that a penny goes in there? It’s the right shape.”
Zoe fished in her pocket and pulled out a penny.
“You carry around pennies?” Derrick stared at her.
“It’s my lucky penny,” she told him. “Where I go, it goes. Hasn’t failed me yet.”
Taking the penny, I inserted it into the opening. It rolled inside, but nothing happened. I emptied the coin back out again.
Dr. Blakeney bent his head. “Ocean current... electric current... I wonder.”
Zoe screwed her face up. “Do you want to share with us?”
Adjusting his glasses, Dr. Blakeney tapped the box. “Well, these wavy cylinders are meant to be ocean currents. But there is of course, another kind of current—an electrical one. The box is made of a solid copper. We can create an electrical current by passing a magnet through the tube—it’s basic science.”
Derrick folded his arms. “What good would that do us?”
“I don’t know,” the scientist conceded. “But maybe, the person who owned this box had a special penny that was actually a magnet—a trick penny. It is a puzzle box, after all. Perhaps the only thing that opens it is an electric current running through it.”
“So where are we going to find a magnet to try this out with?” asked Derrick.
Zoe fished in her pocket and produced a key ring. “I got a magnet on this. It’s the keys to my pickup truck. I keep a magnet on the key ring to hang them up on the fridge at home—so’s I don’t keep losing them.”
“Okay,” said Derrick, “so you carry your keys around too? Damn, girl.”
She shrugged. “T
here’s always hope I’m going to drive my pick-up again one day, hey?”
Dr. Blakeney inspected the key ring that she proffered. “I’m afraid this one isn’t any good. It’s the right shape, but not nearly strong enough. We need a rare-earth magnet, a neodymium or samarium-cobalt magnet.”
She stared at him frowning.
“In other words,” the scientist said, “something strong enough to crush your bones, should you have two of them.”
She made a whistling gesture. “So we’d have a snowflake’s chance of finding one.”
“Oh, they’re not actually rare,” he said. “If we had the time to raid every kid’s bedroom in Miami, we’d eventually find some neodymium magnets—though maybe not as strong as what we need.”
Sophronia straightened. “I remember a children’s exhibit on the second floor—not long after I came out of the coma. It was a collection of small robots and trains and things—all held together just with magnets.”
Dr. Blakeney nodded. “Ok, someone go get it. But do take care. If they turn out to be the ones we want, they’re dangerous.”
Derrick and Zoe stepped away without another word—returning fifteen minutes later with the exhibits.
Dr. Blakeney deftly dissembled the objects, comparing the discs he found—eventually finding one shaped close enough to a penny. He inserted it into the tube. The magnet was pulled through the copper tube.
A small click sounded from inside the box.
We stared in wonder as metal mermaids and mermen swam over each other around each of the four sides. The box sprung open.
I held my breath. The book—the book—sat safely encased inside, untouched by the water. The cover was exactly the same as the cover for the first book—a darkened, cracked leather cover with the barely discernible symbol of a mirrored tree etched into it. Nothing else to distinguish it as being the book that it was.
My hand shook as I reached to lay a hand on the cover. I needed to touch it, to know it was really here before me.
The book was as large as a Bible, and in a way, I guessed it was a type of bible—a collection of knowledge. I lifted the cover and turned to the first page.
27. The Iron Mirror
CASSIE
As with the first book, this second book was written in an ancient language, each character in painstaking calligraphy. Carefully, I looked through the book—hoping to find Tobias’s translations in here somewhere. But there were none.
Sister Bettina peered at the book. “It’s written in the devil’s tongue.”
Dr. Blakeney glanced at her over his glasses. “Then all the writing of that time and place must be evil, right?”
“You are putting words into my mouth, Doctor,” she told him curtly.
Derrick sighed noisily, thumbing the scruffy hair on his chin. “So how are we going to figure this thing out, anyway?” He slung a gangly arm around Zoe.
Dr. Blakeney rubbed his forehead distractedly. “Unless anyone here is an expert in ancient languages, possibly Aramaic, we are screwed.”
“What about the museum?” suggested Zoe. “Maybe there’s some books you can look up?”
Removing his glasses, Dr. Blakeney shook his head. “No. The museum doesn’t hold anything like that.”
“Public libraries?” she said. “Oh wait...We burned all their books for fuel months ago.”
Molly gently turned the brittle pages. Some of the pages contained illustrations—spidery illustrations of incredible creatures, weird inventions and devices. There were drawings of weird plants, of people levitating and flying, and of people communicating in fantastical ways. Further in, strange creatures were drawn in horrifying detail—creatures other than serpents. Knives twisted in my stomach. Humans were part of something much, much larger than themselves—and there could be any number of alien species out there that could see us as spoils.
Lots of pages contained illustrations of beings that we’d all seen before—the serpents. By the amount of writings next to each drawing, it was obvious they knew much about them. I only wished that we could read it. By the drawings, it was clear that humans had once been able to bind the serpents into their service, using their shadows to reach the distant universes. This book had the power to create an unimaginable future for humanity.
Pushing her thick hair back with both hands, Molly bent to examine a picture of snakes writhing in a deep valley between two tall mountains—the snakes moving towards their reflection in a mirror.
Dr. Sharma tapped her finger on the drawing of the snakes, moving her long braid over her shoulder. “I know what this is.” She raised her dark eyes to us. “I’m a little bit of an ancient history buff.”
Everyone glanced over at her in surprise.
“It’s the valley of diamonds,” she said. “It’s a story that Aristotle told, a few hundred years before the birth of Christ. The story went something like this... after capturing Persia, Alexander the Great found the valley of diamonds. But, that wasn’t as great as it seemed. His problem was two-fold. One, some nasty serpents lived down there—and if men or other creatures looked upon these serpents, they would die. And problem number two was that the valley was so deep, no man could reach the diamonds anyway. So Alexander came up with a two-pronged approach. The first thing he did was to order that an iron mirror be put down there with the serpents, so that when they saw themselves in that mirror, they would die. And it worked. The second thing he did was to throw flesh down in the valley. Birds flew down to take the greasy flesh. As the birds spat the unwanted diamonds from their mouths, people gathered up the diamonds. Problem solved.”
“People, one. Snakes, nil,” said Zoe
Beside her, Derrick grinned. “That’s pretty funny—diamonds sticking to grease.”
“Well, diamonds actually do stick to grease.” Zoe shrugged at Derrick. “I have an uncle who used to work in a diamond processing plant in South Africa.”
“But what’s an iron mirror, anyway?” said Ben. “Made of iron?”
Dr. Sharma nodded. “Yes, before people knew how to make glass, they polished metal to create reflective surfaces.”
Derrick frowned at Dr. Sharma. “So, what made this old story of Alexander the Great and a metal mirror so important they felt the need to shove it at the end of the book? I mean, I’m a bit disappointed. Maybe I would have liked to see the writers of the book showing off their new-found super-powers that they got somewhere from outer space. I mean, there’s drawings showing them floating around and stuff, but you can go to the moon and do that.”
“That sounds like it came straight from a comic book.” Zoe shook her head at Derrick, then a dimple indented her cheek. “I like it.”
“And,” put in Dr. Blakeney, “why do we have an ancient legend in a book about the universes? Doesn’t seem to make a lot of sense.”
“We tried to tell you last time,” I told him, “the serpents have been here before. Perhaps they’ve always been with us, in one way or another. The stories must have come from somewhere.”
Ethan’s grandfather eyed me in surprise, but said nothing.
Dr. Sharma tilted her head, staring at the picture with a musing expression. “It is true that there are many legends involving serpents—in all parts of the world....”
“And we made fables out of it all,” said Lacey soulfully. “What we don’t understand, we have to make up a story for.” She cringed a little as people turned their attention her way. Ben smiled at her, his hand closing over hers.
Molly turned the pages to the center of the book. Here, the illustrations pulled out into a huge map—of stars and planets and galaxies.
Dr. Sharma exhaled breathily. “Look at this! The Babylonian astronomers had amazing knowledge for their time, but whoever created this book had knowledge that is simply dazzling. To have everything charted like this, with such accuracy, is incredible—we’ve only reached this point in the last decade. In fact, I’m quite certain their knowledge extends far beyond our own.”
; Dr. Blakeney’s eyebrows knitted together as he pointed to a planet shaped like a cut diamond. “For an advanced crew, they certainly like a good dose of myth. Again with the diamonds....”
“I’m loathe to think that,” said Dr. Sharma. “If these people had the ability to chart this much of the universe, then I refuse to believe they would make a glaring error such as this. Perhaps the diamond shape is merely a symbol. And there is a good possibility there are exoplanets largely composed of crystal—diamond being a crystal—out there.”
Folding the map back down, Dr. Sharma turned to the next pages. Everyone gasped at the color illustrations.
“These are extraordinary,” she said. “No texts had color and detail in this time period. I can’t even guess at how they acquired the inks and the skill to create these!”
Symbols of planets from the map seemed to correspond with illustrations of alien landscapes. These ancient people must have traveled to these places, and kept careful records—the pictures were breathtaking, unimaginable.
She frowned. “There is that symbol of a crystal again.” She traced a finger over the accompanying illustration—it was of an alien landscape, with transparent crystal mountains, strange trees and violet lakes. White ice coated much of the land—it looked like some kind of winter wonderland. “Crystalline mountains!” she enthused. “How incredible!”
She took a long breath. “I can scarcely believe what I’m seeing here. And I understand some of their symbols now. Comparing their symbols of planet earth, this planet has a similar atmosphere—though very high in oxygen. But it is hot—far, far hotter than our most soaring temperatures here. These lakes must be boiling.”
Derrick shook his head. “Can’t be boiling—there’s snow on the ground. And there’s no steam coming off the water like in some pictures of hot springs on other pages.”
Dr. Sharma shot him a wry smile. “Oh, that’s not snow. According to the symbols, it’s volcanic ash. The plants there seem to thrive on it. And water can superheat past boiling point without letting off steam—as some hapless people have found when they boiled water in their microwave ovens, only to have it explode. And we don’t know what laws of physics these planets obey.”
